Welp, the RV sold.
(For the fun of it, I live-tweeted the bejeezus out of the whole event.)
We had a feeling it would. We hoped it would. We told ourselves and each other that even if it didn't sell just yet, that would be a good outcome, too—and we believed it, truly.
And then—it sold, and just like that we found ourselves eating eggs for lunch in a train car that had been converted into a diner. An especially suitable place to celebrate, considering we have our sights set on some train travel before heading back to Oklahoma City (where we were parked all those months that I was excessively discreet) to finish up some work. Where we'll be after that is anybody's guess.
It's not all celebration. We're sad and stressed, too. Sad because we're saying good bye to our first home together. Because the RV has been an exceptionally fun experiment (and my first big departure from conventional living). Because we weren't necessarily finished with the RV lifestyle. And stressed because, as with any move, there's packing and Tetris-ing boxes and cleaning—and because, as with any trip, there's planning and booking tickets and figuring out what clothes to bring and where to leave the car.
I want to get past the surface of this experience to tell you how I really feel, what it's really like to be without a physical home right now (well, not quite yet; our buyers have generously invited us to stay in the RV until we're packed up and ready to go, likely Wednesday or Thursday of this week), but I'm having trouble accessing anything beyond the slightly guarded oversimplification: I'm scared, but excited. Which is to say: I'm ready for our next adventure.
What's your current adventure, big or small?
Notes from the week of April 10
CAMPED AT ALDERWOOD RV EXPRESS
MEALS TO EAT, DRINKS TO DRINK
READ & NODDED MY HEAD
+ "She never waited for inspiration, she just got to it"
+ "Remember to give your sense of wonder a good workout. When was the last time you saw something for the first time?"
+ “Greatness is not in where we stand but in what direction we are moving. We must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it—but sail we must and not drift, nor lie at anchor"
LOCAL COLOR EXPERIENCED
+ Ripped, an exercise class I took with my sister-in-law's sister-in-law, both of whom I adore like sisters